Cyprus Musings 6

Cyprus musings 6


Mirdina had just come to my house for the first time and my heart was racing after our encounter. Looking back, it must have been so strange for her to walk into our home and sit down on the couch and have a laptop staring her in the face. I had been desperate to talk to her so I thought Google translator would be the best option. I typed my questions away, trusting that what came up on the screen would represent my questions. I thought, “She can type her answers in as well and we will have so much fun!”

What “Fantasy Island” do I come from? She looked at me as if I were crazy. She stared at the screen and tried to make out the words. I began to realize that she might not be able to read, so I tried the “say it out loud” button. The broken computer like sounds meant nothing to her as she strained to make them out. Ok, unwilling to give up, I tried to pronounce them myself. Still, furrowed brows and frowns were all I could see on her face. It never occurred to me that maybe the translation might be wrong.

I gave up and decided to go back to our game of charades. I had this plan that I had talked over with my friend from the states who lives in Turkey. “Do you think I could ask Mirdina to be my cooking teacher and I would pay her for her lessons?” “Yes,” she said enthusiastically, “and it would honor her to be your teacher sharing her types of food with you.”

That is why I asked her if she knew how to make “Sarma” stuffed grape leaves one of my favorite foods. She said “evet,” (yes), and I asked her if I could pay her to be my teacher at 25 Tukish Lira per hour. She said “evet,” I think. We started to work on the ingredients when I thought, “How do I let her know I will provide the ingredients, so that she doesn’t feel the burden to shop for this.” I didn’t want to mess this up, so I searched my dictionary, my Turkish phrase book and finally back to google translater I’m still not sure I succeeded.

Occasionally there would be a moment of understanding, the “AHA” was amazing. For example, she kept saying: sar un, sar un. That’s what it sounds like phonetically. She tried to find it in the dictionary, I tried spelling it on google translator. I tried different combinations, and then it hit me, “I bet it is onion.” I have no idea how I knew that but when I typed in onion, it came up sogun, pronounced sar un, onion, she nodded “evet, evet!”

My greatest fear is that I would offend her since I didn’t speak any Turkish. I don’t think I did, but she would talk away in Turkish and I would strain to catch any glimpse of what she might be saying, but truly the words that sound like English are nonexistent. I recognized nothing. It was so hard! I could tell she wanted so badly for me to understand and I couldn’t use google translator to translate what she said.

Finally, she took my book, my notepad, and closed them firmly, then gestured that we were through. She kissed me on both cheeks and left quickly. I didn’t even have time to give her a plate of goodies.

As far as I knew she would be here on Thursday at 11 am to teach me how to make stuffed grape leaves.

She never showed up, but I am learning that in Cyprus, you really don’t make “plans.” Schedules don’t mean anything, at least in the average person that you meet. So I’m not taking it personally.

I took on the challenge myself, based on the ingredients we talked about. The stuffing is similar to that which we put into bell peppers, rice, beef, tomatoes, onion, and garlic. The spices that make them taste unique are tarragon and mint, and of course the grape leaves. Since I didn’t have access to fresh grape leaves, I found some canned ones in the store. They were crammed so tight into the jar that I broke a third of them trying to get them out. I rolled them with the stuffing like a mini burrito, and voila: Stuffed Grape leaves. They tasted good, the stuffing turned out great, but the leaves were tough and hard to bite into.

Yesturday, it had been almost 4 weeks since the day we “talked” about making Sarma together. We had been gone all day, and when we got home around 8:30pm, on my counter was a plate full of Sarma! These were rolled tight, and the leaves were tender. The stuffing was amazing and slightly spicey. Yum! How I wish she could have taught me how to make these! The house had been locked up all day, except for the kitchen window that was slightly ajar. Our window is around 5 feet off the ground and the counter is about a foot below the window. How she managed to get the plate through my window and onto the counter is still a mystery.

Cyprus Musings 5

Cyprus musings 5


Eating out in another country has been a learning experience:

Some places come with a sense of humor like the Cod Babba or “Cod Father”…

Lamb kebabs often include several chunks of fat to chew on, and are full of grisly meat: gack!

The restaurateurs by the harbor compete for customers like sellers in an open market. We tried to walk through “restaurant row” and were accosted every few feet by men promising everything from free drinks to all inclusive meals, and everyone made the promise that they would “take very good care of us…” whatever that means. Our expensive meal was “ok.”

Meze mean a series of appetizers that vary from place to place, but they often taste better than the main course, especially the hummus, yogurt cucumber stuff and the warm bread.

A typical Cypriot meal can last up to 3 hours with at least 15 courses including: tongue, goat liver, pickled twigs of caper plant, venison jerky that if chewed might break your teeth, and lots of stuff you have no idea what it’s made of. For dessert, try the “interesting” stewed walnuts, shell and all, marinated in liquor until dark black. When you cut it open, it looks like a squirrel’s brain! I liked about 10 percent of what was served, but am grateful for the experience.

I have yet to get what I order from the menu, at least what I anticipate from the menu. For example:

Dave and I went down town to eat at a café. The waiter promised us that the food was “incredible!” Dave ordered something that resembled a mountain of mashed potatoes with chicken in a white sauce running down it. I ordered something else from the menu and it was a mashed potato arena with chicken and white sauce in the middle. Both plates tasted exactly the same, yet the waiter emphatically denied that they were related. He insisted that the “sauces” were different; our taste buds emphatically disagree.

I have learned that the suggestions from the waiter rarely deliver what they promise. For example, I have seen pictures of something that look like a “gyros” sandwich. I want one of these, but every time I try to order one, the waiter suggests something else that is “So much better.” Then, I agree since I want to have an authentic experience and learn from the experts; but, every time I follow their suggestions, I am disappointed. The last time this happened, everyone else in my family got what I wanted and I ended up, once again, with something else. I thought for sure this time I had it right, but instead of the delicious “doner duram” I got a kebab plate with tough and fatty chicken! I have decided that I have had enough “authentic” culinary experiences now, even though I haven’t tried the “fresh squid salad.”

The best strategy for finding restaurants in a new city, where you don’t know anyone, can’t read the signs, can’t understand the policeman you asked for recommendations, and you left the tour book at home: is to follow your nose.
We went to Guzlyurt for the fun of it, and found ourselves in the middle of a small town with two story buildings on both sides of the one lane streets, no sidewalks and no “one way signs.” How do you get to anything here? Where do you park? When you drive past a place that looks promising, how do you get back to it?
There are no “tourist” friendly maps in North Cyprus that clearly show street names and landmarks to guide you to the hottest new trendy place. (I have been told it is because “North Cyprus” doesn’t really exist.) The street signs are literally the size of a postcard and the maps don’t have street names on them anyway, or if they do, there are no landmarks to help you get your bearings. We finally found a place to pull over to stop. We walked around trying not to get hit by the cars zooming past, pressing ourselves up against the walls and hoping our feet didn’t stick out too far!
As we searched for food, I suddenly smelled something amazing. We walked around a bit more, but had to go back to that smell. It was a restaurant and I didn’t even know what they served, it just smelled soooo good. They were smart to have the grill right next to the front door so that as you passed by you would smell what they were cooking. We ducked into the place and walked to the inner courtyard. There were tall shade trees with small bird cages hanging from the limbs with song birds in them. It sounded like a park. There were posters of horses running through fields that looked like meadows in the Swiss Alps, (so random), and there was a fish tank with two huge fishes that looked something like a cross between a shark and a catfish.
The food took awhile to arrive, but it was worth the wait. We had simple pita with lettuce and tomato with chicken roasted on the grill to perfection, seasoned with something mysterious yet delicious. My nose did not disappoint.

There is one place to get ice cream called Mardos which serves real “American style” ice cream. Turkish ice cream is sticky like marshmallow cream and I can’t describe the taste because I couldn’t get past the texture. It stuck to the roof of my mouth and coated my teeth so that my tongue became claustrophobic!